Lavender, Libraries and Lapis
by Natsumi Wakabe
Summary: Having realized that technology is not doing much against the Decepticons, some of the humans decide to turn to another source of power: magic. However, not all is what it seems, and the fates of Autobots and Decepticons alike will be changed by the forces they will encounter as the art is revived and the olde ones are revived. Inspired by a bunny.
1. Prologue

_WARNING! There is some controversial religious issues, as well as some uncomfortable history. This is not a bashing of any religion, merely opinions and experiences of fictional and real people that I have created and known, as well as history that I have read up on. If you are uncomfortable with this, please turn away now. Please remember, this is not an attack on anyone's religion, merely a story._

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The Guardian waited, watched as the world of magic and power began to fade and die out, as the humans were forced to turn their backs on the worlds they had once walked together, and entered into a realm of oneness, of singularity, of a desire for monotheism, monogamy, mono-being, one, single, only, of there being only one way, one kind, one people, one faith, one destiny. He watched as statues of deities older than the new "True Faith" were torn down, witnessed the murders of innocent women and men and children (at the stake, at the gallows, burned alive, drowned, hung, bloodied and beaten, cut, beheaded, dismembered, tortured, destroyed, gone, gone forever, dead, dead, dead, dead), watched as women were stripped of power, men forced into positions of dominance and "kind" violence, children beaten and hurt for the acts of "devil worship" and "evil deeds." He watched as the thing that dared to call itself the "One True Faith" spread like a disease over all of the lands. He watched as land was paved over, trees that once represented entire tribes, clans, people and villages, cut down in symbolic severance of the people to the land, to nature, to their deities, to their ancestors, to their inner selves. He watched as guilt and fear, blind obedience and submission, masculinity over femininity made the Old Ways disappear. He watched as what was once used to cleanse and heal was turned to something malicious and horrid. He watched as the humans were turned from magic, and away from him.

He watched them and wondered why it was that he stayed where others had left.

He wondered just how many times his heart could break before he was beyond all help and hope- for them and him.

But he also saw things that gave him hope.

He saw entire covens being formed between many people, as they worked their powers at night, under the light of the full moon, in the seclusion and protection of the forests. He saw women that risked their lives to help mothers through the pains of labor where the male doctors would have forced them to "pay for the sins of their first mother." He saw determined individuals that fought in any way they could to stay true to their faith, to their land, to their ancestors. He watched as gods were turned to saints, and then worshiped as the gods they truly were right under the Church's nose, by their own hands. He saw how clever and sly and devious and determined so many of the people were to pass on the sacred knowledge of land and time, life and death, and of all things that were denied, turned away, deemed blasphemy, and erased by the Church.

He watched and waited for the day that they would call upon him again, when he would once more be worthy of his title as Guardian.

He had no way of knowing that his release back into the plane of his wards would come with the awakening of metal giants from a planet far from Earth, many, many years after the Burning Times.

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_Disclaimer: all recognizable Transformers characters are property of Hasbro. The Guardian belongs to Natsumi Wakabe and the Wakabe Writing Firm, as well future OC characters to be named later._

_Author Notes: This story is inspired by a prompt on Transformers Bunny Farm: tf-bunny-farm. livejournal 237614. html# cut id 1 (please remember to take out spaces)  
Prompt was for humans turning to magic in order to fight Decepticons. Michiko, bless that witch, took one look and demanded it be written. So here it is. By the way, everyone wave hi to our new secretary, Sephora. She, Onoro and Michiko will be running this story. However, do to many, many, way too many commitments (school, various rituals and holidays, festivities, work and family obligations) this story is going to take a while to be updated. BUT IT WILL BE. Just as soon as we have time to feed the bunny. Anyways, I hope you like this, and remember: flames will be used to roast evil!faeries on a stick. Have fun. -Isuzu (Ghost Secretary of the Wakabe Writing Firm)_


	2. Herald the Guard

**Disclaimer: The Wakabe Writing Firm has no claim on Transformers, and makes no money from any writings done on it. All characters of Transfomers belong to Hasbro. The Guardian and his summoner are property of the Wakabe Writing Firm.**

_Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. Things are crazy right now. Anyways, the ritual/spell done here is based off a bit of Natsumi and Michiko's own practices (quarters, calling, and salt) along with a bit of research done, as well as just a pinch of special effects. We hope you enjoy, and ask that if you are so inclined to please review this chapter. Many thanks. – Sephora (Secretary in Training, Wakabe Writing Firm)_

Chapter 1

Herald the Guard

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The day was much like any other in the Ark: bots were cycling in and out of the Rec Room, Prowl was holed up in his office again doing reports, Optimus was making his morning rounds with Ironhide following close by, and Red Alert was on monitor duty, optics darting from screen to screen as he looked for any signs of either a Decepticon invasion or the newest prank of the twins, whichever one came first. And, just like clockwork, the most recent Decepticon attack came, right on schedule. Immediately, Red Alert commed the commanding officers, and then, on speaker, alerted everyone to the attack. Immediately, all four of the other officers came running in, optics drawn to the scene that was unfolding on Teletraan 1.

"Another power plant has been attacked by the Decepticons, Optimus," reported Red Alert, digits flying across the console, bringing up more images from security cameras, data sheets on each Con that appeared on screen, as well as geographical data and other background information.

"Seems to be a kind o' hobby for 'em," Jazz quipped up, a smirk-like smile gracing his lip components.

"Indeed," rumbled Optimus as he took in all the information that flew across Teletraan 1's monitor. His processor called forth data of who was on patrol, how far the location of the attack was (this time in San Francisco of all places) and how long ETA would be if they left in the next breem. "Jazz."

"Yeah, Prime?" asked the Lieutenant, stepping forward and in front of his Prime.

"I want you to gather what mechs you can that are not on duty and call in Skyfire. Make sure that you get Blaster in on this as well, but send him here first. We need to get to that power plant. Red Alert, you stay here and monitor the situation, but make sure that you have a connection established with Blaster before we leave- you can give us more information as it comes. Prowl, with me; we can start planning as we get to the landing pad. I want those of us that are going to be informed of what it is we are up against, and a basic strategy for when we get there. Ironhide, I want you to stay behind and be ready to send and lead backup, should we need it."

He turned and surveyed his mechs, and then, after another quick glance at the monitor, turned.

"Autobots, roll out."

In the end, only four more Autobots were available to accompany the commanding officers for the coming excursion: Bluestreak, Cliffjumper, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. All seven of them filed into Skyfire, gathering together near the front, where they could watch for any signs of the Decepticons.

"So, what's the plan, Prime?" asked Jazz as he lounged next to Blaster, who was sifting through the radio waves, listening in on various reports, of what was happening. Optimus turned his helm briefly to his third in command, before looking back at his second. Then, the two of them moved back to the rest of the troops, and began the briefing.

"The first thing we are going to do is try to evacuate as many humans as possible. Blaster, what does Red Alert have to say about the civilians near that area?"

"Not much," Blaster answered, his optics a bit unfocused as he started to relay to Red Alert what information was desired about the situation. "From what he can pick up from the spycam and the human authorities on ground, it seems that they have already started to do their evacs. They're trying to clear a space of two miles right now, although they are pushing to expand it. For now though, their biggest concern is getting everyone within those two miles to get out. Must be going pretty good of they can say that they're now pushing for more cleared space."

"Not surprising, considering that this is not the first time that the Decepticons have targeted San Francisco," commented Prowl. "By this time, I would be surprised if they did not try to get everyone out and to have a wide berth between their civilians and the attack area."

"But that's not all," Blaster suddenly interrupted, looking a bit complicated. "It seems that there was some kind of event going on there, some kind of event going on just prior to the Decepti-creeps showing up. It doesn't say what happened, or who was there- only that some of the locals were a bit unnerved by it."

"And you have no way of checking to see what was going on?" asked Prowl, frowning slightly. "If the humans were doing something there earlier, maybe it could be their activities that drew the Decepticons there, besides the Power Plant."

"Not yet," Blaster said, optics still slightly hazy, a frown marring his face. "Give me a minute and I can see if maybe there was something on someone's blog about today."

"Optimus," interrupted Skyfire. "We are coming into San Francisco airspace. ETA is 1.5 breems."

"It doesn't look like we are going to have time for that, Blaster," Optimus said, before turning to the rest of the group. "When we get there, we hit the ground running, and we hit hard. I don't like the fact that they have had so much time to get comfortable. Our goal is to hit hard and fast."

"Yes sir!" came the resounding confirmation from the troops. Then, the hangar to the outside started to open up, and in a well-practiced move, Optimus ran out the door, and went off into battle.

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Crouching behind a bit of rubble, Cliffjumper cursed as the corner of his temporary shelter was shattered by photon blast. Quickly, he rose up, took a quick shot at one of the Decepti- creeps (Astrotrain, if that paint job was anything to go by) before ducking behind the concrete barrier that kept him from their own blasts. He glanced over to his right and saw Bluestreak starting to scale one of the buildings. No doubt he was going to start taking down the Cons like flies. Another shot at the edge of the concrete slab had Cliffjumper cussing again as he scrambled toward the other end, and began calculating the likelihood of his ability to make it to Prowl's position without getting his helm shot off. Then, Astrotrain decided to charge him and Cliffjumper didn't have much of a choice on whether or not he wanted to chance getting shot at. He still made sure to turn around at some point and shoot the fragger, just to make sure that he got him back. Then, as he spun into the cover provided by the building that Prowl was using, he saw a flash of black. Frowning, he tried to think of anyone that could be that small, and had black. His first thoughts were of one of those blasted cassettes, but he shook his head. He knew that it couldn't be one of them, all of them were accounted for. A quick scan over the battlefield confirmed what he already knew: Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat were in the sky dropping bombs and laying what waste they could on the Autobots below, Ravage was making his way back to Soundwave, and Rumble and Frenzy were both guarding the cubes of energon. None of the other minbots were here, and he was pretty sure that Jazz was facing off against one of the grounded seekers that he had managed to get down. So who in the name of Cybertron was here?

"Prowl!" he semi-shouted to the Datsun next to him. Prowl didn't give any verbal acknowledgement that he had heard Cliffjumper, but that was to be expected, seeing as they were in the middle of a battle. "I think there might be some humans here!"

"Where?" That was Prowl; quick to the point, short and sweet, hold the fluff.

"Over by the Cons, building with the rod on top." Prowl ducked behind the building completely, opening his com link to the others on the battlefield.

"Prowl to Autobots, we have a civilian in the area." Instantly, responses came in. "I need a visual on its position. Last seen at the main building east of us."

"_Bluestreak to Prowl, I have a visual. It's a girl. She's crossing the building now! She's headed straight for them!"_

"Can anyone intercept her?"

"_That's a no go, Prowler. We each got a tango partner already in this dance. Can't afford to change partners now," _came Jazz's response, from where he was still entangled with Starscream. A quick look around confirmed what he already knew. He would have to do what he could, given the situation: ensure that the Decepticons were focused elsewhere, while he sent one of them (most likely Cliffjumper) to retrieve the wayward human.

"I want everyone to draw their attention away from where she is. Cliffjumper, you are to circle around and retrieve the civilian. Everyone else, distract them."

"_Yes sir!"_

"Cliffjumper," Prowl addressed the bot standing next to him. "You know what to do?"

"Yeah." A distracted nod from Prowl was his only indication that he was to get going. Cliffjumper grumbled to himself as he started on his least favorite part of fighting Decepticons: evacuating wayward humans that didn't know better. Honestly, you would think that the humans would know better, especially since they all knew that Decepticons had no issue with squishing humans.

_It was time. It was time. It was time._

_He could feel the power that gathered there, in a land far from his home. He could hear the voices, chanting, calling- not quite to him, but to the vast amount of (heka, magic, chi) energy that he resided with. He knew, knew deep in his core that this was what he had been waiting for. He grabbed hold of the energy that was rushing to that distant land, elated and excited in a way that had once been seen as unbecoming of a Guardian of his status, but he did not care. He was finally being called again. He could finally be worthy again._

_As he crossed over the oceans and mountains, the rivers and cities, marveling at all the wonders that he had never seen before (it was so different from his home lands), he finally saw where his magic was being called to. A gathering of people (as large as the crowds once were so long ago before such actions were forced into those stone cold and strict fortress-like buildings) were all there. Men, women, children; people of many colors, heights, appearances, all of them calling, crying, heralding for something that few had dared to call out in the open for so long. As he came closer, he could see that this was no ordinary casting. It did not call to one but many. There, below him, he could see already that many others (fellow guardians from other lands, different deities from many cultures, spirit guides, entities, "angels" and others were all there and it was so good, so good to be amongst his own once more, no longer tucked away in his little spot waiting for them to call to him again, watching and waiting) were also called. He could hardly believe his luck. To be among his own kind again, for something that few had been called upon for so long, was wonderful. Eager to find the one that had called to him, he landed in the eastern quarter, and felt the many auras and webs of energy, magic, and beings that were there._

_She was here._

_The one who had called him was here._

_He walked through the crowd, unseen, but not ignored, as his essence passed through people on his quest to find the one that had called to him and his energy. He drifted toward the center from the east, then headed north, then south. None of these quarters held his charge- a most unusual prospect, considering those of water rarely called him (that was more his brother's domain, water). Regardless, he headed west, to the quarter of water, femininity, sensuality, the life giving and drowning element that raged against land with the wind, but nurtured it too, with its essence. The pull was strong here. And there, toward the back, whispering as her hands moved in ways that she should not have known (few of his wards had survived those Times, and none that he could recall had been able to pass on the knowledge) was the one that had called to him._

_In that moment, when her eyes flashed that golden hue of brown (just like Hers, and His and Theirs) he knew that he had found the right one. He stepped forward, ready to make himself known to her, and to hopefully become a Guardian again._

_And then those creatures appeared._

_It happened fast, and he did the only thing he could think of: ensure her safety (in ways that he should have done for Them) and answer her call when she returned to that battle. He had hissed to her that it was not safe, that though he was now here, he could still not do much because there was no set agreement yet. She could not hear, and instead ran behind buildings, dodging into any place she could, under balconies, into plantation areas, until at last, she reached her goal. The center of the gathering; it was the only thing it could be. The circle had been broken, salt scattered in all places, the liquid markings that had once adorned the ground now nothing more than puddles in random areas, and candles that were not yet lit._

_She went to the eastern quarter, opened the circle with two fingers (and how amazing was it to see that she could do that with her energy, and be welcomed in so gracefully). She stepped in, he followed. She closed the circle, sealing it from the inside. Then, after fumbling through what was probably a rehearsed prayer, she started what the others had been unable to finish: a spell to force those metal creatures away._

Next Chapter: Lavender and Sage

Excerpt:

_So small and so fragile, yet containing within themselves a power that was far greater than anything else that they had yet. How was it that they had hidden this from them for so long? If a single child could bring about such things to the Decepticons, then why was it not being used? These questions, however, remained unanswered in the days to come, as Optimus Prime debriefed his bots on the strange happenings of San Francisco. In the end, only three things could be known for sure. First, the gathering that had happened earlier had something to do with it. Second, the girl that had finished the act had done something that no one had ever seen before. Three, they had to find out what this was all about, and who were they._


	3. Lavender and Sage

_Disclaimer: The Wakabe Writing Firm does not own Transformers, nor does it own any land in Santa Cruz, no matter how much Natsumi and Michiko wish they did. The Guardian is property of the Firm._

_A/N: Merry Meet! This is Michiko! Natsumi-sama is out at the moment, but don't worry, she'll be back! First, we would like to thank all of you who have left us reviews, it was very encouraging when we were working on this. A very huge thank you and love to Hecate-19. Thank you for your bunny and your encouragement, it is very loved and appreciated._

_Anyways, there's something I need to tell you before you read further: the words near the bottom are Latin, and haven't been used, nor have, at this time, a purpose other than for storytelling. That being said, please, enjoy the story!- Michiko (witch secretary, Wakabe Writing Firm)_

Lavender and Sage

When the crew returned to the Ark, they returned confused and in need of answers. Somehow, things had not gone the way that they should have in the battle with the Decepticons. Instead of fighting them and having Prime and Megatron do their usual one on one battle, they were interrupted by a single human child that had somehow managed to, as the humans said, give them hell. The impossible had happened, and none of the Autobots that had attended the battle were quite sure what to do.

The debriefing that happened within breems of getting back to the Ark were not very revealing either. When everything was said and done, it was very clear that they were dealing with something that no one knew how to handle. According to Cliffjumper, who had been charged with evacuating the civilian, ended up giving the most relevant and confusing information. Before he had been able to get to her, she had managed to get to what seemed to have been the center of the gathering from before. She had done some weird hand movements before entering what looked like some kind of focal point. It was hard to define what exactly it had been before the masses had been forced to flee or face the Decepticons.

However, no matter what they had been doing, it obviously had been important enough for at least one of them to return to the area in order to complete the task. When Cliffjumper had been close enough to finally extract her, she had thrown up some kind of energy field that had pushed at all of them, and had actually knocked down those that were closer to the girl. This pulsing force had rushed against all of them for what could have been minutes or hours. In the end, however, once the waves of energy had stopped, it had revealed the impossible: a large mass of semitransparent but very real and physical form that had thrown itself at the Decepticons, massing against them, pushing at them, and leaving them covered in some kind of gooey substance where it had touched. It had even been able to crush their armor in a bit, though not as much as it would have been able to, had it been graced with hands. Nevertheless, it had eventually chased them off, sealing the deal once they all realized that for all their advanced weaponry and firepower, it had absolutely no effect on the entity that they were up against.

Optimus sat in his office, going over all the facts that they had. He tried to piece together how this could have happened, how it was that humans, of whom most he considered either his allies or those under his protection from the Decepticons, were capable of such feats. He could not understand it. So small and so fragile, yet containing within themselves a power that was far greater than anything else that they had yet. How was it that they had hidden this from them for so long? If a single child could bring about such a thing to the Decepticons, then why was it not being used? These questions, however, remained unanswered in the days to come, as Optimus Prime debriefed his bots on the strange happenings in San Francisco. In the end, three things could be known for sure. First, the gathering that had happened earlier had something to do with it. Second, the girl that had finished the act had done something that no one had seen before. Three, they had to find out what this was all about, and who they were.

The first thing they did was try to find out what had been going on at that power plant before they had arrived. It was not an easy task, made all the harder by the fact that no news crew seemed to have a clue as to what had been going on earlier. However, after getting the idea to try the internet and all of its social networking websites, it became significantly easier. It took some digging through, but eventually, they had found a group on Facebook that had given them the answer: a group that called itself Witches Independent of Terror, or WIT, as they called it. It was actually a fairly small group, from what they could find. It ranged to about thirty people, with a base group of thirteen. They were affiliated and linked to many other groups of various Pagan (and how strange it was to them that they were of faiths that were so diverse, had independent thought of what their deities, higher powers and other such things but that they all shared the same religious labeling so peacefully for the most part) but for the most part acted independently from the rest of their affiliated groups. Except for what happened in San Francisco. They had called upon all of their friends, and even those that just shared the same basic beliefs, asking for them to show up for a ritual that was supposed to help encourage the Powers That Be to help fight against the Decepticons.

Evidently, it was successful.

The question was how.

More digging was required.

What made things even more complicated was the fact that several of the people that were part of WIT did not have an actual account on the website. Most of them seemed to use proxies and grouped together in order to have it so that they were mostly untraceable. Mostly being the key word. Because apparently they were known to gather up people and do things out in the middle of nowhere when they were doing their "magic." That, however, did little to deter from the fact that these people had, apparently, been doing this for a while, building up to what they did in San Francisco. However, nothing could be found on the girl that had finished it. Or at least, none that they could find. If she was even part of the group, they could not find her, at least not in any of the pictures that had been posted. They had to assume that she was the one taking the pictures, or that she was part of a completely different group or not connected to any of the groups.

For the moment, all they could do was ignore it, and wait for the next act, should there be any.

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_._

_He waited again. Though he hated the fact that he was once more forced to wait, it was less agonizing than before. For one, he was finally with a ward again, even if their relations were not yet defined. For another, he had been given the chance to protect her, and he had not failed her. and for another, he knew that she was going to do a meditation that would help her to open up a gate between them._

_For now all he could do was be patient, and wait for her to bind the sage and burn the lavender._

_It would not be much longer._

_._

_._

_._

By some twist of fate, the Autobots found themselves once more in California, again at another power plant. Considering that the coast had such an abundance of energy sources, such as their various power plants, nuclear plants, dams and other sources of energy that fed electricity to millions throughout the state, it was no wonder that the Cons would attack the Golden State again. As it was, today they had decided to target the coast, just north of Santa Cruz in the mountains. They were using the mountains in order to make it more difficult for the Autobots to come into. Several humans had been in the area, but it had seemed like they had fled, or at least hidden themselves in the foliage, amongst shrubs of lavender. They were also in an area rumored to have several spirits in it.

Somehow, that little detail seemed to have escaped them.

It did not, however, escape their attention after the two forces started to clash.

At first, they did not register anything out of the ordinary of their fight. The sound of shouts and insults across the battlefield were normal, as were the animalistic growls from the bestial cassettes. The sun was being covered up with clouds, but what did they care for such trivial things like a light source when they had night vision? What reason did they have to care for the wind that seemed to circle the area they were fighting in? Why would they be concerned with the way that the area seemed to become colder?

What did they care when they heard voices?

Apparently, they cared a lot, if the yelps from some of the spooked Cybertronians were to be considered. At first, it was just whispers, things that they were easily able to shrug off in the middle of battle. The phantom touches, soft and little more than the wind against armor, were equally easy to ignore. But as the battle started escalating to the point where Prime and Megatron would go head to head and everyone could slack off for a bit, then things got really strange.

What should have been a clean shot to one of the seekers up in the air, turned into the blasted missile being turned into a curve ball that came right back to the ground. It exploded spectacularly, and reminded several of the Autobots of Wheeljack's explosion back in '92: lots of lights and sound, but not a lot of damage, thankfully. When it was done lighting up the clearing they were in, the wind died down, and for a moment, time stood still.

Then things got violent.

Those touches against armor suddenly clawed into the metal, tearing into it like scissors to paper. Wind slapped against servos that clutched desperately at guns. The voices of thousands suddenly rang out through the clearing as Decepticon and Autobots alike were forced to fight against something that they could not see and had never known before. Panicked screams and harshly barked orders rang in contrast to the disembodied voices that came in human voices, echo-like and haunting in a way that they could not understand; growls and howls that were raspy and threatening like no organic on this planet should have been to them. In their growing fear, these actions began to grow even more ferocious, started biting into sensitive wires, tearing off strips of metal now instead of just slicing into it.

In the end, the Decepticons felt that this was more trouble than it was worth, and Megatron sounded the retreat, and the Autobots were left to fend for themselves.

As they tried to disentangle themselves from whatever entity that was trying to harm them, a faint smell began to make itself known, as well as a low humming sound coming from the layer of bushes and trees that had encircled the clearing. As the smell became more pronounced and the humming louder, things began to calm. Then, a voice, male, older, the slightest bit raspy, called out.

"O, O quondam dormiens in terra sedentem móntium, praesidia. Petimus ut qui contra hunc ordinem nolite pugnare contra sacram terram delere minari."

Everything stopped.

The Autobots looked around, amazed, and more than a little freaked out. In the time that it took for Optimus to recover from his shock, he could see, faintly in the foliage, the figures of the humans that had been there earlier running, leaving, and for a moment, he felt the urge to go after them. They were the ones that could explain so much to him, but he also understood that sometimes, you must wait for things to be revealed. As a religious figure and leader in his own right, Optimus understood that there were times when he would have to let things be, and now was one of those times.

He turned to his men, and ordered them all back to base.

As he went though, he turned his attention to where to scent of burning vegetation had once been, and noted the plant that was there: Lavandula angustifolia; Lavender. And at the base of the first bush of the plant, was another, smaller white branch of another plant: white sage.

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_Translation: O, ye spirits of old, protectors of the mountains who lie dormant in the land. We ask of thee that you stop your attacks against those who have come here in order to fight against a threat that would have destroyed this sacred land._

_Next Chapter_

_Athame and Wand_

_Excerpt:_

_It made absolutely no sense. These creatures were made of flesh and blood, carbon based creatures that should not be able to summon upon things that should not exist._

_But they could._

_They did._

_But how was it possible that with a small dagger, which was never allowed to cut flesh, was able to command fire or wind to come? How could they channel such energy within their frail bodies, and then force it out through a small piece of metal? Or through their fingers? How had they missed this? And where could they find answers?_


	4. Athame and Wand

_Disclaimer: The Wakabe Writing Firm does not own Transformers. They do, however, claim ownership over The Guardian, Miranda, Rafael and Raina, and the fictional store, The Thirteenth Hour. So please ask before using._

_A/N: Hello everyone. Let me first start out by apologizing for the long wait. Between NaNoWriMo and finals, we had little time to update. Add to the fact that all our computers crashed and all the data we had stored on them was lost, it has been a hard time for us at the Firm. We thank you for sticking with us, and your reviews. It helped, and we are finally back up, even if we are having to comb through old notebooks looking for some hints as to what we were writing. Many thanks again, and hope to update soon. -Michiko (Witch Secretary, Wakabe Writing Firm)_

Athame and Wand

It had been a harrowing and frustrating few weeks, but finally, things were finally beginning to come together for the Autobots. Now that they had been able to identify who these people were, they were able to narrow down their search. For W.I.T., there was one individual that was named and had contact information for: Rafael Halco. The profile page of him showed him with a forest backdrop, with a lazy scowl on his face, and a wand in his hands. His fading blond hair was partially slicked back, while a few bands were hanging in front of his hazel eyes. And at the right of his profile picture, was the name of a store: The Thirteenth Hour (Witchcraft Supplies & Books). There was even a link to the homepage for it, and it was there that Optimus felt would be the best place to start.

As he and his second and third in command searched through the website, they came across more products, each with a brief description, which included things like oils and herbs, books and candles, along with a long list of different tools, like knives and swords by another name: athame and blades that were for ceremonies and defenses against things unseen and untouchable, that represented fire or air, depending on the practice, and were a means of focusing will and commanding.

Optimus was absolutely baffled by it. It made absolutely no sense. These creatures were made of flesh and blood, carbon based creatures that should not be able to summon upon things that should not exist.

But they could.

They did.

But how was it possible that with a small dagger, which was never allowed to cut flesh, was able to command fire or wind to come? How could they channel such energy within their frail bodies, and then force it out through a small piece of metal? Or through their fingers? How had they missed this? And where could they find answers? Where were the facts, listed in a plain and bland language that would make everything easily measured by scientific means, and tools and things that made sense? That was what they had to find out, and the best first step would be to gather information on this Rafael Halco.

.

.

.

Miranda del Mar skipped down the streets of Santa Cruz happily, her precious bundles of lavender and apple tree wood swinging from her hands in their bags. A smile shone on her face, her brown eyes sparkling with mirth, seen easily through her short curly black hair. Then, looking up, and finding the sign she was looking for, she headed to a deceptively small looking shop, with a red sign above in a flowing script. As she entered, the bell chime rang, a soft and high E. No response came from the quiet store, no clerk at the register calling a greeting, but Miranda was not surprised. She simply went past the front door, past the besoms that were turned bristles up, knocked a small slab of birch wood, and then placed her bags on the counter before going around it and past the wall of dried herbs and then pushed past the regal purple curtain with Celtic knots. As she passed that last barrier, she entered into the backspace, where her teacher was bent over his cauldron, which he was stooped over, muttering and stirring, throwing in different herbs and such as he went.

"What, no greeting for your humble bearer of lavender and apple?" She laughed as he jumped and cursed, then smiled angelically at him. He scowled at her, rolling his eyes at her attempt to seem innocent.

"Haven't you been told to knock?" he questions, glaring briefly before returning to his cauldron. He takes a moment, trying to recall where he was before he was interrupted. Just as he gets back into his mindset, Miranda deliberately goes, and then walks over to him, and then jumps loudly to the front, making Rafael sigh and turn his attention to her, one eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Oh nothing. I was just wondering if we were going to go scare the mundanes later."

Rafael snorted. "No. Unlike some, I still have a life."

"Hey, I resent that! I'll have you know that I am a very busy witch!"

"Full of what, pretending to be a real boy and writing love poems?"

"Raf!" She pouted at him, "I don't do that!"

"Not anymore," he snorted.

"Besides, I have a life now. It's called college and a job."

"Do you have a point to this?" Rafael grabbed his wooden spoon and then continuing with his stirring.

"Well..." she drew out the word, swinging her body left to right, like a child that was asking a parent for something. "I was kind of hoping that we would be able to maybe do something later. You know, just the three of us."

"Three of us?"

"Yeah: you, me and theunnamedspirit."

Rafael paused again and looked at his semi-ex-student. He took in her nervous smile, the way she was biting her lip, and how she refused to meet his eye. He sighed, made a quick pentagram over his brewing brew, and then set down his spoon.

"What?"

"Would you-that is- um- would you-"

"Spit it out!" he barked at her.

"Would you help me contact the spirit from San Francisco again?"

He stared at her, and then narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

She shrugged a bit helplessly. "I don't know. It's just that, whenever I'm alone, or someplace quiet, it's almost as if I can hear someone there. I can't make out anything, and it isn't kept out by any circle I make to block out any negative energies, and, I don't know, it just feels right."

"Miranda, you know the risks of doing this, don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered out.

"And you still want to do this?"

"Yes."

Silence followed her answer, as both waited. Rafael went through the many things that could go wrong with this sort of thing, but then also what benefits could be had. If they contacted the spirit, and if it was benevolent, then there was so much more that Rafael would be able to teach Miranda. Or rather, so much more that he would be more willing to teach her, since she would have additional protection from what realms she would need to go to, in order to follow the path that she had chosen long ago.

Miranda, for her part, was just as hesitant about the answer to come. Yes, she felt like this spirit was there to help her, and all her instincts were screaming at her to accept him, but there was also a fear. A fear of what could happen if she was wrong. She wasn't stupid. She knew the risks, had been researching the possible negative effects for years. She also knew that once she opened that door, she might never be able, or willing to close it. But gods damnit, this was what she wanted, what she had been waiting for: someone who would walk beside her when she went across the sea of the unknown.

A few minutes passed as both searched themselves for the right answer. Rafael found it first, and let out a loud and explosive sigh before answering.

"All right. We'll do it at the next full moon."

Miranda's eyes immediately locked with his, reflecting both relief and surprise. "But what about the full moon ritual?"

"We'll still have it, we'll just have to do it after."

Her smile could have put the summer sun to shame.

Then, the phone rang.

.

.

.

_"Thank you for calling Thirteen Hour. This is Rafael speaking, how may I help you?"_

"Rafael Halco?"

_"Speaking."_

"This is Optimus Prime of the Autobots."

_"*snort* Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England."_

"Mr. Halco, this is no joke, I assure you."

_"Prove it."_

"We are currently en route to your store, and will be arriving in approximately five minutes."

_"All right, you smart ass. If you really are who you say you are, come around the back. We scare the mundanes enough as it is just by existing. Do us a favor and don't add to their panic levels, got it?"_

"If that is what you wish."

_"Yeah, yeah. There's a little road that will take you round. And if this is some kind of joke, then let me warn you now: I have security cameras, mace, and a registered .22, so don't get any ideas."_

_._

_._

_._

Some time later, Rafael found himself out back behind his store, smoking a cigarette as he waited. His eyes lazily scanned the large back alley/road. His shoulders were loose, but his feet were firmly planted, ready to run, fight, or both if it came down to it.

"So, what do you think?"

Rafael turned to the woman on his right, then turned his gaze up to the window above him, where another woman stood, watchful and calm. "I think that this is a big joke, but hey, who knows."

"But do you think it could be real?"

"Who knows. Either way, I know how to defend my own."

"Well duh. But still, what if it is real?"

"Then it's real."

"Raf! Come on! Aren't you even a little excited?"

"Why would I be?"

"Hello? Freaking giant robots from space."

"Yes, and your point?"

"You totally want it to be them, don't you?"

"I plead the fifth."

"Ha! You totally want it to be them. Just so that you have something to tell your kids?"

"I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind. I could tell them I met a giant alien robot. I'd be cool to them forever."

They both laughed at that, but then turned silent when the sound of engines coming down the street. Rafael stayed calm, eyes losing their mirth as he waited for whatever was going to come out from beyond the bend. Miranda looked nervous, fidgeting and eyes darting from where the possible extra terrestrials were coming and the door. Rafael spared her a brief look, before turning his attention back to waiting. Miranda took a step back toward the door.

"Raf?"

"Go," he said simply. "If this gets bad, I don't want you involved."

She nodded, and then quickly went inside. Just as she closed the door behind her, a herd of cars entered the back alley.

Rafael stared, trusting that his own would be safe, and that if need be, he would take them down, or die trying.

.

_It was them._

_They had come to her haven. Why had they come here? Why was she waiting? Why did she not flee? Were these not the same creatures that she had fought against before? Or were they different somehow, in ways that he could not yet discern? Or was there some other agenda at work here?_

_The Guardian cursed at this sudden turn of fate, cursed his inability to understand what was going on, why he was so disconnected with everything that was happening in this new time, and cursed his limited access and ease of communication between himself and his new ward. If only he could reach out to her in more than just the briefest touches, the softest of whispers. If only he were stronger, better, louder, physical. If only he was... more. If only they were more._

_But there would be no use of cursing this. He knew that he would soon be able to come to her, and to tell her all that was, all that he knew, and to help her. __He need but be patient, and all would be well._

_But if those things dared to try to hurt her, then he would do what he could not do for his other wards from long ago, and destroy them. He would not fail again._

_._

_._

_Thanks for enjoying, please send us your thoughts, and help keep the writer happy. Here's a little preview of the next chapter._

_Chalice and Salt_

_She flew through the air, hurtling herself to the metal cup that now lay empty on its side. As the chaos of fire and darkness continued to play out behind her, she hastened to fill the chalice with water, knowing that she had but one chance to get to the bottom of this. Water might not be what this creature was comfortable with, but it was hers to command, and her house element. And she would wield it with the same intensity and control that she had done most of her magical life. She would find out what was going on, in the depths of dark waters with the purity of salt tonight._

_She would not back down now, when she was so close to the answer to her heart's desire, and a guardian that waited on the other side of this trial._


End file.
